


Welcome to the Dark Side: We Have Cookies

by Dessa



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 18:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dessa/pseuds/Dessa
Summary: What would it take to turn Ezra to the Dark Side? Maybe not as much as you'd think.





	Welcome to the Dark Side: We Have Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pure crack fic. You can tell by the title where the idea came from. It's not meant to be taken seriously, though I did try to keep everyone as in-character as possible. Takes place between Stealth Strike and Legacy.

 

Ezra wasn't sure which he disliked more: Kanan and Rex arguing over who got to train him when, or Kanan and Rex _planning out_ who got to train him when. Because, of course, did _he_ get any input? Of course not. It wasn't like he hadn't rescued _himself_ when he got captured with Sato's crew, or anything. Nooooo. But he was “a kid” and needed to be “parented.” Some days, he didn't mind it. But today, it was too much.

 

They'd landed on Lothal (Ezra guessed that Hera needed to be away from the fleet as much as he did... although Ezra wanted to be away because there were limited places to hide in space). And Lothal meant that he had _his_ places to go. He'd already been chased away by Kanan and Rex, and Zeb and Sabine were out on a supply run. So he sought out the ship's captain.

 

“Hey Hera?” he called, entering the cockpit.

 

“Ezra? Is everything okay?” Hera was checking the wiring under the control panel, making sure everything was in working order.

 

“Yeah, I just...” he trailed off.

 

“Kanan and Rex being overbearing?” Hera guessed. The sigh and flop into one of the chairs that she heard confirmed her guess.

 

“I just want to get away for a while. It's okay, right?”

 

Not really, Hera wanted to say, not with two Inquisitors out there, and them being known and wanted on Lothal, but she knew that Ezra needed the space. “Where are you headed?”

 

Ezra hadn't thought of that. He was just gonna wander, wherever his legs took him. But if he had to pick a place... He didn't want to go to his Tower, so... “I was gonna go back to my house. See if... if there's anything there.”

 

Hera knew that he had told himself that his parents were dead, and she and Kanan hadn't told him what Tseebo had told them, but... “Be careful. And make sure to keep your com handy. And don't stay out too late.”

 

Ezra nodded. “Thanks Hera.” He smiled, even though she hadn't come out from under the console to see him, then he headed down the ladder to exit the ship.

 

 

Something felt... off... as he neared his parents' old home. He could tell that the Force was trying to warn him or something, but he couldn't tell what. Slipping past the barriers blocking the door, he immediately could tell he wasn't alone. And it wasn't the presence he felt that told him that. It was the smell of... something baking?

 

The smell hit Ezra with nostalgia, and he unconsciously lowered his defenses a bit. How long had it been, since he'd smelled something baking, let alone baking in _this_ house. He wandered toward the kitchen, and was shocked at what he saw. The Seventh Sister, wearing his mother's apron, with one of his mother's recipe books open on the counter, and dirty dishes in the sink.

 

She'd been working on cleaning, when she turned as she sensed him. “Hello there, pretty one,” she said, smiling creepily.

 

“Wh-what are you doing---?” Ezra trailed off. The rest of the question was left unsaid. The question as it stood. What are you doing here? What are you doing _in my kitchen_?! He was sure she knew what all he meant.

 

She was about to reply, when the timer on the oven went off. She turned from him, ignoring the shocked look on his face, and opened the oven. Immediately, Ezra was overcome with the familiar smell. Melted chocolate, sugar, the perfectly baked dough...

 

She slid the cookies expertly off the baking sheet and onto a cooling mat. She smiled to herself, knowing that she had the boy right where she wanted him. Testing one, she sighed at the perfect cookie. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boy edging closer to the tray.

 

Instantly, he stopped, right before her suddenly-extended lightsaber blade could sever his head. “Not so fast, pretty one.”

 

“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

“For you to join us, of course,” she cooed.

 

“Never!” he insisted.

 

“Then you don't get cookies. And this was such a good recipe, too...” Ezra glared. It was his _mother's_ recipe! “I wonder how my cookies would compare to hers? Perhaps I can arrange for her to be released to bake for me...?”

 

Ezra froze. His mother was still alive? Could it be?

 

“If you join us, you could be the judge.” She lowered her lightsaber, pushing the tray towards him.

 

He looked between her and the cookies, then made his decision. He reached across and quickly grabbed a cookie, stuffing it in his mouth before staring straight at her. “I'll go with you.”

 

She smiled. “Welcome to the Dark Side. We have cookies.”

 


End file.
